Dear and esteemed Seedseer,
I hope this letter finds you and the other Senna siblings well. It's been an awfully long time since we've seen each other, hasn't it? I have no excuse for such boorish behavior, if not for the fact that showing my face in broad daylight in the Twelveswood has become a bit of a harrowing experience. I'm back in the Elder Seedseer's good graces (besting Ramuh won me quite a bit of political capital) but I'm afraid the
rumors concerning me have yet to die among the smallfolk.
If rumors they indeed are - that's why I'm writing to you presently.
You've doubtlessly heard of my research endeavors from brother
E-Sumi-Yan: I joined the Thaumaturges' Guild aiming to find out the truth about the War of the Magi, the fall of Amdapor and the nature of white magic. It did not go quite as planned.
I did learn some things, don't get me wrong. I've learned that while conjurers and thaumaturges manipulate aether in similar ways, they are truly as different as sun and moon and night and day. I've learned that the two arts
don't mix easy - although it is quite possible for one individual to master both.
This, it would turn out, foreshadowed a terrifying discovery.
First things first. I did find out what really transpired in the halls of Amdapor, and even though I spent many sleepless nights reading the priceless tomes housed in the Arrzaneth Ossuary, I did not learn of this from a book. I heard it from the mouth of Mormo, a voidsent who made the mistake of preying upon the lalafellin siblings running the Thaumaturges' Guild. The voidsent is no more, but their words will endure in my memory.
You see, I had one thing correct: Diabolos was indeed summoned using something resembling black magic... just not by the Black Mages.
The Amdapori themselves did the deed. In their wartorn despair, they turned to the void just like their enemies, except they had none of their ancestral knowledge on handling fiends. Diabolos destroyed them from the inside even though they sealed it away before it could harm the forest.
I couldn't believe the hallowed white mages of eld could have done such a dangerous, destructive thing. If their plan had succeeded, if Diabolos hadn't turned against them first and been bound... why, the results could have been worse than the
Sixth Umbral Calamity.
I worked so hard to discover this, and yet my rewards were disappointment and doubt. Doubt in the virtue of white magic, first. Then, doubt in myself.
You'll soon understand why.
Not long after, word got around that Ququruka Tataruka, a prisoner claiming to be the Voice of Nald'Thal, had a vision of a fire-headed thaumaturge chosen by the Twin God to be his emissary. Said thaumaturge, he said, would retrieve the gem of Shatotto, the soul crystal of a legendary black mage, and follow in her footsteps.
All thaumaturges fitting this description were sent out to find the gem. I'll spare you the false suspense: I'm the one who found it. And not by chance, either - a voidgate opened right in front of me and it fell into my hand.
When I brought the stone back to Ququruka, I was shaking in confusion and anger, and he laughed in my face. He said that no matter how I felt about it, this fate was inescapable, and that my soul was already sworn to darkness. I ended up throwing the gem to his face and running away...
Naturally, next time I opened my bag, the soul crystal was there.
I am
ever so bad at
losing things.
My mind is still reeling. It has to be a mistake. It is indeed a mistake, isn't it? I can't possibly have been chosen to inherit
both white magic and black magic. Not when I'm supposed to have been
literally born to be
A-Towa-Cant's successor! This is nonsense of the highest order. First, white mages summoning a voidsent, and now this? How many more people will stake a claim to my soul? Am I going to have to split it up to give everyone a piece?
Please, Raya, I need to hear it from you - I need you to tell me that this is a mistake. Please tell me that I'm still a mage of the white, heir to a padjal,
Quieter of the Guardian Tree,
reforger of Thyrus.
Please tell me my soul isn't condemned to darkness.
Up until now, I had never believed in forbidden knowledge. I believed all truths, even the most painful ones, ultimately led to freedom.
Was there ever a bigger fool?
I'm not sure what to do now. The Scions need me on my feet right now - there is so much going on, you have no idea - and I'm scared. I don't know what to believe anymore.
I'm sorry for burdening you with this, but please, please share your padjali wisdom with me.
Your friend,
Lalli the White Physalis